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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25261228">Gun Metal and Daisies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/NavyPage3/pseuds/NavyPage3'>NavyPage3</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Peaky Blinders (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dorothy is an actual sunshine, F/M, Fluff, Slow Burn, Thomas is an arsehole, this can only go great</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:48:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25261228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/NavyPage3/pseuds/NavyPage3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorothy Monroe is a petite woman with a heart too big for her chest. She's pure, kind, she looked at the world and determined all the colours of nature were miracles and needed to be remembered.</p><p>Thomas Shelby: gangster; and war hero; he reads the devils script as if it were the morning newspaper - the list will go on. I don't need to say much more, you already know him.</p><p>The Shelby family, as part of Tommy's expansion plan, bought a large area of the woods on the outskirts of Small Heath, far away from the Birmingham smog, there they built safe houses and kept heavy machinery; maybe even once they kept a large crate of stolen guns, supposedly belonging to the Government.<br/>Unbeknownst to Dorothy, who stumbled around the woods (a bulky camera in hand), she had explored the woods many times, taking photos of all the things that shined bright enough, but had never come across the peculiar buildings that held many dangers.<br/>That is, of course, until she knocks upon one of the doors, ready to give an earful to whoever had built over this precious patch of land, only to come face to face with one Thomas Shelby.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tommy Shelby/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <br/>
  <em>'May the flowers remind us why the rain was so necessary.'</em>
</p><p>"Ouch!" Dorothy, had stumbled into a bramble bush. <br/>She shook her hand in attempt to lessen the stinging sensation, but paid no actual mind to pulling out any of the thorns, too distracted by the blessing of a sunny day in Birmingham.</p><p>It was rare for Birmingham to get a sunny day, let alone one with clear skies and lazy breezes. Lucky for Dorothy, she had her day off today, and found herself stumbling around the woods.</p><p>This week she'd had her birthday and without a doubt, it was possibly one of the best days of her life. Her father, Dean Monroe, unknowingly to her; had slowly saved up just enough money to purchase her a Kodak Jr, an early model of the actual one, second hand too, but it worked and that's all that mattered.</p><p>She remembered sobbing into her hands when she was presented with the gift. The overwhelming joy completely threw her. Once she got over the initial anger of her father keeping secrets and spending so much on her- she thanked him as many times as she could blubber out through her tears.</p><p>So here she was, staggering around the woods on the outskirts of Small Heath; a slightly bloodied and pricked hand from her clumsy fall she had earlier. <br/>Off in the distance she saw a stream with bluebells dancing over the path of the water. The sun was shining over them in a way that made them dance over the stream like a ballet performance - putting on a show for only her and nature to see.</p><p>After hearing the distinct 'poof' of her camera, the film slowly ejected. She took the developing photo card and ran the smooth texture over her hands. <br/>Mesmerised by the picture that was appearing in her hands, it was no surprise that she almost dropped it when she heard the sound of a door slamming shut in the distance.</p><p>Dorothy was highly baffled by the sound as she was in the centre of the large woodland area; there was no buildings or structures here. That's what kept this place so beautiful.</p><p>Snapping out of her shock, she shoved the photo into her notebook to protect it and placed it in her film satchel.</p><p>Dorothy wasn't necessarily an innocent girl, knowing all too well the dangers of the world, but she was still a very pure one despite all of her trials and tribulations. <br/>Her refusal to ever see the impure before the contrasting was her best and worst trait. She is a friend to many but a target to many more.</p><p>Though meek and somewhat shy, she is passionate about things she loves and will fight skin and teeth for them.<br/>This was apparent when she stumbled across a home, it seemed. One that didn't belong in the woods, but rather looked like it should be pushed on the end of a street in line with others that look exactly the same.</p><p>It's brick was grey, covered in dirt and it's roof looked like it was rubbed in coal. All in all: it wasn't a pleasant sight and it was an offensive gesture to the woodlands she loved so much.</p><p>Dorothy was near fuming.</p><p>——</p><p>The guns were gone.</p><p>They had been dug up. He didn't know how, but now he had lost his bargaining power. <br/>The police were on the streets searching for him. He needed to lie low.</p><p>Thomas thanked whatever God there was- no -he thanked himself and his pre-disaster planning that he had built the safe house.</p><p>He made a mad dash around the back streets and alleys of Small Heath, taking a risky stretch as he crossed the open fields-hoping that he wouldn't be spotted in the open. As soon as he spotted the house, he did not cease his speed until the door was slammed shut behind him.</p><p>Looking around now, trying to get his breath back; He noticed the way that the house was laid out. He hasn't actually been to the safe house, only approving of the outer appearance, knowing it would be inconspicuous and won't draw attention to the building in the woods.</p><p>The house was decorated in a somewhat homely fashion. It must have been Aunt Pols doing when he left her to sort out supplies.</p><p>He chose not to dwell on the appearance and instead peer out of the windows, cautious of coppers. <br/>When he saw none, he stomped over to the cabinet, situated next to the sofa and pulled out a bottle of Whiskey.</p><p>While admiring the fine brand that had been seemingly waiting for him to drink it; He was quickly brought back out of his thoughts when he heard violent banging on the front door of the house.</p><p>——</p><p>
  <b>Thank you so much for reading the first chapter! I'm so excited to get into the nitty gritty of this plot line.</b>
  <br/>
  <b>Special thanks for nature.and.nonsense for editing some of her photos so they could work with my story! They have the coloured ones on their insta if you want to see them!</b>
  <br/>
  <b>I hope you enjoyed this chapter and hopefully many more!</b>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Maybe first impressions are overrated anyway?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I would rather die of passion than boredom.</em>
</p><p>'Who the fuck are you?'</p><p>Only moments earlier was Dorothy spying on the house, walking around it, wondering in all of natures glory why the hell it was in her woodlands.<br/>After practically attacking the door with her fist, it swung open to reveal the barrel of a gun.<br/>Charming.</p><p>If she was being honest; Dorothy had never been held at gunpoint, and therefore had no idea how to deal with the situation she was now in. <br/>Though passionate in her initial quest to give the owner of this house an earful, it felt as though now all her strength had diminished.</p><p>'<em>Do I walk away and apologise quickly or continue to further anger whoever felt it justified to put a gun to my face'</em><br/>To anyone else, it might've been a stupid question to consider, but her thoughts were serious and she was stuck between the two.</p><p>While deciding her reaction, the man in question spoke up again, "eh? Answer me."</p><p>Now only able to gape in disbelief, her facial expression filled with fearful determination, an oxymoron within itself.<br/>The cogs turning in her brain, now stuttering to a halt as she heard the distant calls of police whistles; "<em>now that's very strange," </em>her mind was wandering in different directions.</p><p>Without any more words, he pulled her into the house, quickly determining she was not a threat and shut the door.<br/>Dorothy, still not having said a word, let out incoherent stutters and gave the man an incredulous look.</p><p>Dorothy noted he had a strange air about him, it seemed like he commanded the air around him and demanded everyone's eyes to be on his. Not the kind of person she liked hanging around much.</p><p>He grabbed her by the shoulders and bent down to eye-level:<br/>"Oi! Look at me, ok? Look at me." She did, only now coming back to reality, scared out of her wits. She herself didn't know why, but she chose to listen to what he had to say, "ok, there are police, coming this way, they are going to knock on that door there, and you are going to answer. They will ask you questions about a man coming through here; you are going to say you've seen nothing and get them to leave. Ok?" He spoke in harsh whispers that frightened her. Her anger gone, now she only trembled in her wellies, a ringing in her ears.</p><p>After she had registered his words, she felt very much inclined to do as he said; nodding her head.<br/>He pushed her towards the door and took off for the next room, checking his gun on the way around the corner. <br/>8 chambers. 8 bullets. Probably not enough to get all of them, but enough to get away.</p><p>Keeping a steady eye on the girl who had seemed to march in at the wrong place and wrong time, he had no sympathy for her, as a matter of fact, had no sympathies of any kind.</p><p>Though he hid it well, a brief moment of panic set in when an even more violent sound raptured on the door; "Birmingham police!" A nasally voice sounded through the hard oak. He peered around the corner, just enough to see her eyes almost watering.</p><p>Dorothy opened the door and a police man stepped up; "hello Miss, we were wondering if you have seen anything suspicious around these parts?"<br/>Swallowing her nervousness, she stayed calm, though the buzzing in her ears kept her on edge.<br/>"No officer, what kind of suspicious activity should I be looking for?" She lied smoothly. Scared out of her wits, feeling an abhorrent amount of guilt for lying.</p><p>The officer stiffened; he knew that rumours spread horribly around these parts of the city,<br/>"Never mind that Miss." The copper paused for a second, she seemed startled and shifty,<br/>"Everything alright, Miss?" <br/>She viciously nodded her head. Though suspicious, he let the thought go.<br/>"Sorry for the disturbance, enjoy your evening." The nasally man left along with his colleagues, stalking into the setting sun.</p><p><em>"That was a lot easier than I thought" </em>the two mused.</p><p>It was silent again when she closed the door. Well, it was silent on the outside, in her head, the ringing kept going like alarm bells that had no off-switch. <br/>The sound was so loud that she almost missed the sound of his harsh footsteps approaching her.</p><p>Thomas started approaching the woman, she seemed like she was in a daze, though her eyes were darting around the room, never really focusing on anything.</p><p>He sighed. He knew that look all to well: it was the look people had when sounds felt like they were going to cave in your skull; It was the look they had when they heard memories of past all around them, desperately searching for the cause of the noise, only ever finding the four walls of their home.</p><p>He walked back over to the whiskey he set on the table when she knocked on his door.<br/>'<em>Oh yes. Why did she knock on the door?' </em>The thought crossed his mind, but when looking back over at the woman, he deduced maybe now was not the time.</p><p>Grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet he set them on the coffee table, poured them both two fingers. <br/>He gingerly picked his glass up and tipped it back as though it were cough medicine with a foul aftertaste.</p><p>Thomas walked towards the woman, he shoved the glass into her shaking hands, too busy formulating a plan to be courteous.</p><p>He poured himself another two fingers and sat down on the sofa.<br/>'<em>I'll have to lie low for the night, head back tomorrow. The coppers won't come back here for the night so I'm safe for the time being.''</em></p><p>Dorothy, after a long while of standing stiffly by the door, gave herself a swift talking to: knowing that she was in the company of a stranger; a stranger with a gun; a stranger who pointed a gun at her; a stranger who had built a house in her lovely woodlands!</p><p>She turned around to face him with a snarl and grimace on her face. Only then realising the glass she had in her hand.</p><p>She stared at the contents of the glass: a rich brown colour. She brought the glass up to her nose: a pungent smell that she only ever smelt on the breaths of men who got too close.<br/>'<em>Whiskey'</em> she thought. <em>'Typical.'</em></p><p>She padded over to where the man was sitting, cigarette in one hand, whiskey in the other.<br/>He seemed lost in thought. Too busy in his own head to notice her presence.</p><p>"You built a house in the woods."</p><p>The sound of her voice startled him, though he didn't dare jump. <br/>He was surprised for two reasons:<br/>1. Because her voice sounded silvery compared to the meek voice he had heard not even five minutes ago.<br/>2. Her sentence was said in an accusatory tone. Being accused of something was not alien to him but the crime which he seemed to have committed was certainly a surprise.</p><p>He didn't look up at her, though he still answered; her finding the former rather rude:<br/>"Yep." His nonchalant answer only infuriated her more.</p><p>"You built a house in the woods," She stated again, "These woods are the only place in all of Birmingham where the smog leaves your lungs and you BUILT a HOUSE."</p><p>Thomas only now looked up at her. He had so many questions.<br/>Was she daft? Did she have a screw loose? What's so special about the woods? Who even is this woman?</p><p>"Yes, I built a house in the woods. Are we stating the obvious or are you going to drink your whiskey and sit down?" His tone more a command then a question.<br/>She did not sit down.</p><p>Dorothy, in these sort of situations (this of course being the first one with a run in with the coppers), would flounder over her words and do as she was told. <br/>It seemed that this time, that was not the case.</p><p>This man - this monster - had built a house in her home (well, sort of home) and now had the audacity to sit there and boss her around.</p><p>Dorothy was not afraid - she was fuming.<br/>She had no idea what to do in this moment: she wanted to scream at him; she wanted to slap his face into next week; she wanted to do so many things that she wouldn't ever do.</p><p>Her response was underwhelming. If anything it was rather pitiful. <br/>She stamped her foot on the ground, and picked up her glass as if to throw it in his face, only to pause halfway through the motion as she felt that she had gone too far.<br/>The contents of the glass spilled out in front of them. They both stared at the patch on the ground, as if it were going to grow legs and walk around.<br/>The attempt to seem angry was almost laughable to Thomas.<br/>She, even though embarrassed, felt guilty! I know, guilty! She stood there and felt like she had just killed a man.</p><p>Dorothy immediately rushes into action, she didn't have the mind to find any towels so she used the hem of her long flowing blue dress.<br/>Thomas watched her for a second, baffled by the woman. He slowly leaned forward and grabbed her shoulder so she would sit back.</p><p>She was mumbling to herself quietly, something about the fact that she was glad it was a wooden floor and not a carpet, otherwise that would have been a pain to clean up!</p><p>She leaned back at the push on her shoulder and stared up at the man.<br/>He looked confused - he was confused - as he stared back.<br/>She stood up lowly and sat opposite him on the armchair, now feeling very foolish at her actions throughout the whole of this afternoon and evening.</p><p>"What's got you in a tizz then, eh?"</p><p>——<br/><b>Chapter 2 is here! Yayyyy. As this story progresses, I'd REALLY love if you could send feedback of any kind, I'm completely happy with constructive criticism, I always want to know how I can improve! </b><br/><b>Until next time!</b></p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. “Are you a whore?”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>But he, that dares not grasp the thorn should never crave the rose.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was the way in which he said it that made her not want to answer him. Maybe it was the way he scrutinised her under his stare.</p><p> </p><p>Dorothy stares back at Thomas. She reckoned if she put on the same face he had, then he'd back down.</p><p>She was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>Dorothy squinted her eyes at him and wrinkled her nose up in a fashion that looked like he was a foul smell that didn't go away.</p><p>She surprised both of them when she spoke, "what made you think it was okay to build a house in the woods?" Her glare, though weak, was still harsh and scratchy.</p><p> </p><p>Thomas did not answer, he didn't look at her at all, in fact. He only shifted his gaze to the whiskey bottle in front of him, reading the contents of the drink.</p><p> </p><p>Dorothy huffed when she realised she wasn't going to get any answers from him.</p><p>It was in that moment Dorothy had a small revelation, though it was a bit late coming, "<em>why am I still here? He can't keep me here, I need to go home and cook food for Papa."</em></p><p>With a huff and a bit of stumbling she lifted herself out of the chair that felt like it almost consumed her body when she sat down in it.</p><p> </p><p>Stalking towards the door slowly, she pondered over what she could make for a dinner that evening only to be stopped by a gruff voice that made her squeak, quietly, startled.</p><p> </p><p>"And where do you think you're going?"</p><p>She stared back at him, a sense of rage bubbled inside her, but she would not let it get the best of her.</p><p> </p><p>"Home?" She answered as more of a question than statement.</p><p> </p><p>He sighed again, he seemed to be doing that a lot tonight.</p><p>"No. No you're not. You need to stay here til tomorrow, if those coppers see you outside of this house before tomorrow, then they'll come back here to check this house again." His explanation, though justified, felt like a weak excuse in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p><em>"Why should I care about helping him?"</em> A much ruder side of her brain argued.</p><p> </p><p>Even though this man had threatened her and put her in a VERY uncomfortable situation. She decided that he clearly was in need of her assistance in whatever he had gotten himself into, and had the guts to ask. Sort of ask.</p><p> </p><p>She walked back to the armchair that seemed innocent enough to the unsuspecting soul, and stared at it as if it was going to eat her whole. She knew the truth, she knew it would. Bastard.</p><p> </p><p>Thomas was about to comment on her strange behaviour, when she did something even more strange.</p><p>She gasped, as a look of horror passed over her face.</p><p> </p><p>She started scanning the room for something, it was at this point Thomas came to terms with the fact that he was going to be spending the night with someone who was supposed to be in the Nuthouse.</p><p> </p><p>When she rushed over towards the direction of the door again, he did not say anything, only watching her.</p><p> </p><p>Dorothy bent down and picked up, what looked to be an assortment of jagged metal and glass, only which turned out to be a camera. A camera in two parts.</p><p> </p><p>She assumed that she must have dropped it in her shock of being pulled into the house.</p><p> </p><p>Cameras at were bought at a costly expense, though he'd never really come into contact with many, he knew they were somewhat hard to come by.</p><p> </p><p>Dorothy did not seem as fazed by the fact that her probably quite expensive camera was in two parts. Instead, she sheepishly smiled at the man in front of her.</p><p>"You don't happen to have a screwdriver, do you?"</p><p> </p><p>She honestly didn't know how to fix it, but she thought she could give it a go. It seemed easy enough.</p><p> </p><p>Thomas shook his head at the curious question.</p><p> </p><p>"A coin?"</p><p> </p><p>Thomas sighed, "how much do you want?" Thinking that she was going to demand money for what he's put her through this evening.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh no! No not that, I don't want your money or anything!" She rushed to explain, "I only need one to help put back in some of the bolts and screws to get this back together again!"</p><p> </p><p>Thomas doubted he she could put the camera back together herself. He also doubted that he could put it back together himself as well.</p><p> </p><p>"Give it here. I'll take it to someone to get it fixed then I'll get it back to you. Ok?" His statement prompted an unusual response: she puffed out her cheeks and and held the broken parts closer to her stomach, leaning further back in the chair.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>'Who the HELL do you think you are, trying to steal MY camera away from ME?'</em>
</p><p>Is what she wanted to say, but the majority side of her brain decided that shouting will only embarrass her further.</p><p> </p><p>"No, no. It's alright I'll just get someone to fix it at home." She shook her head.</p><p> </p><p>Home. Oh how is she going to explain her absence to her father when she gets back, he might think the worst, she doesn't want to worry him.</p><p> </p><p>She shook her head again. It's a matter for tomorrow, the situation was out of her hands as of right now.</p><p> </p><p>Tucking her legs underneath herself, she now spent the time actually looking around the house she sat in.</p><p> </p><p>The walls were an off white colour that had beams of dark wood running up the lengths and across the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>The furniture was an assortment of reds and golds with a dark coffee table in the middle. Next to the man there was, what she assumed was a liquor cabinet. There was another room off to the side, which she assumed would lead off to a kitchen area of sorts. The stairs looked old and worn, despite the fact that this house clearly was new, as she hadn't seen it before.</p><p> </p><p>"Are you gonna drink that?" The same gruff voice pulled her out of her thoughts, she looked back at the man in front of her, he was pointing at her glass of whiskey.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh no thank you. I don't drink." She smiled apologetically. He only nodded and tipped the contents of the glass down his throat.</p><p> </p><p>It was only now Dorothy had a good look at the man.</p><p>He wore a suit, it looked like it wasn't expensive, but it was definitely very smart for the working class man. He had a peaked hat on the table. After closer inspection, she noted it had its shiny label sticking out of the front of the cap. She shook her head at the mismatched way the man in front of her dressed himself.</p><p> </p><p>"So, uhm, what's your name?" She had a small smile on her face, seemingly trying to start a conversation with the man who didn't seem interested in anything she had to say.</p><p> </p><p>Thomas was surprised at the revelation that this girl did not know who he was. She was clearly Brummie, but seemingly had no clue of his notorious identity.</p><p> </p><p>"What's your name?" He clipped back.</p><p>She huffed at his response, this wasn't how she wanted this conversation to go.</p><p> </p><p>The more stubborn part of her brain decided not to answer. Only 'glaring' at him again.</p><p>His next choice of words surprised her:</p><p>"Are you a whore?"</p><p> </p><p>Dorothy froze at this question, she unknowingly tightened her grip on her broken camera. She <em>really</em> didn't like this man.</p><p>Dorothy was not a weak girl, not by any stretch, but she was unsurprisingly sensitive, it was both a curse and a blessing.</p><p>Tears seemed to well up in her eyes, she was offended, hurt by this man.</p><p> </p><p>"No. Not at all." She rambled on, "why would you think that? Is my dress too short? Oh I knew it was a bad choice for today. Is it the makeup? I swear I only ever wear lipstick!" She worked herself up more.</p><p> </p><p>Once she had finally seemed to calm down from her flustered state, he stared at her. He wasn't expecting any answer really. He thought she would scoff and leave it be.</p><p>Thomas continued to be baffled by this girl.</p><p> </p><p>He subtly looked her over. She wore a blue dress, a tea dress, which folded around her frame and tied together with a belt. She wore stockings and had boots on that she left beside her, as to not get the armchair dirty.</p><p>She didn't look like a whore.</p><p> </p><p>He shook his head and stubbed out his cigarette.</p><p>Eyes drifting over at the clock on the wall, he noted it was now 9:30.</p><p>Only 9:30 and Thomas was bored out of his wits. He didn't even want to fuck, he was so bored.</p><p> </p><p>He was pulled out of his bored thoughts by the sound of the woman's stomach groaning.</p><p>Dorothy blushes harshly and her hand shot like a light to her stomach. She smiled sheepishly at the man in front of her.</p><p> </p><p>He nodded his head towards the kitchen, "there's some food in the kitchen, go get some." She did not move an inch.</p><p> </p><p>"Oh, I could not take any of your food, just ignore me, I'll be okay to live until tomorrow." She smiled sweetly as to hope he would drop the subject.</p><p> </p><p>Thomas shrugged, he wasn't going to force her to eat. He tried his best to be hospitable (though it was a poor attempt) and she didn't want any food. Not his problem.</p><p> </p><p>After another five minutes of him smoking and Dorothy being thoroughly uncomfortable, she looked to her left and saw a bookshelf. Surely he wouldn't be offended if she just picked one up?</p><p> </p><p>After shifting the broken parts of her camera onto the table in front of her, she shuffled over to the book case.</p><p>There weren't many books there, just enough to make the bookshelf useful. She picked up Great expectations. '<em>Dickens</em>' she mused.</p><p> </p><p>Ignoring the mans burning gaze, she sat back down, got comfortable and started reading. It was going to be a long night.</p><p> </p><p>Thomas watched as the woman in front of him only seemed to get to page 7 before slowly dozing off in her chair; resting her head on her hand which was on the arm of the chair. Her neck sitting at a weird angle but she didn't seem to care.</p><p> </p><p>It seemed time kept slipping away as he was left with his thoughts. Before he knew it, it'd was 4 o'clock in the morning. He rubbed his eyes, hoping for sleep but at the same time dreading ever falling too deep into it.</p><p> </p><p>He stared at the broken camera in front of him. He slowly leant forward, careful not to make any noise. He picked it up and inspected the two parts.</p><p> </p><p>Slowly, he figured out the mechanics of how the two pieces fit together. He took out his coin and got to work.</p>
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